


All for Swinging You Around

by stardropdream



Category: Chobits
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-13
Updated: 2013-01-13
Packaged: 2017-11-25 08:13:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/636886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another undisclosed day in Tokyo, during which Dita is continually exasperated by Zima's antics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All for Swinging You Around

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ December 7, 2008.

“It’s been quiet lately.”  
  
“Mm,” he agreed, arms tucked comfortably behind the back of his head. He peeked out at her from beneath his fringe. She was surveying the horizon, trying hard not to lock eyes with him.   
  
At his minimal response, however, she grew slightly miffed. “Is that really all you have to say?”  
  
“Looks that way, love,” he said, amused.   
  
Dita’s eyes narrowed, crossing her arms. Peeved, she jerked her head defiantly, and her hair flipped backwards, trying to settle behind her persocom ear before slipping out and hiding it again.   
  
“It figures,” she said with a snort. She studied him. “How are you feeling?”  
  
“The same as when you asked me five minutes ago, darling,” he drawled, smiling up at her cheekily. She huffed again, bristling up as her shoulders tensed. “Worried?”   
  
“It’s my job,” she retorted, and turned her face towards the sun, so that the rays flushed out the light shading of pink that stained her cheeks. “And it could be fishy. No one’s tried to hack into you for a long while. There might be some kind of new virus developing in an attempt to breech your firewall.”  
  
“My firewall would simply not stand for that,” Zima cooed, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her onto him. She relented, straddling his hips and sitting on him, the natural position for the two persocoms. She, for her part, looked rather put upon but made no move to get off of him.   
  
“Absolutely not,” she agreed, and straightened her spine, her eyebrows furrowing. “I was designed to protect you from any and all intruders and—what do you think you’re doing?”  
  
Zima, tired of the basic protocol recap from Dita, was pulling his fingers through her hair. She huffed some more when he didn’t respond right away. He continued playing with her hair until she slapped his hand away with a dramatic flourish of her own.   
  
“Stop that and be serious.”  
  
“Hm,” he said, laughing as she whacked at his hand as it made an attempt to sneak to the back of her head. “I wonder if you were designed to be such a wet blanket, dear.”   
  
“Would you—!?” Whatever it was that Dita was about to demand of Zima, however, was never heard because it was at that point that Zima was able to get both his hands in her hair and tug, laughing as he did. She growled, but couldn’t quite bring herself to be as angry as she should have. “You… are impossible.”   
  
“That’s just the way I am.”  
  
“Must be a defect.”   
  
“A virus?” Zima asked, raising his eyebrows. Dita could tell he was leading her down a long line of labyrinths to get her to admit something he’d wanted her to admit all along. And yet, she couldn’t fathom where exactly the conversation was heading—just that it was headed in that direction.   
  
“It would explain your strange behavior,” she groused.   
  
“But I’ve always been this way, love,” he teased, swiping a lock of her hair along her cheek. She glared, but couldn’t quite muster the right amounts of anger yet again.   
  
“Must be something broken inside that head of yours,” she declared, jerking her head backward haughtily, chin tilted upwards as her red eyes glared down at him from over the tip of her nose.   
  
“Shall we go get me fixed?” he asked, laughter still in his voice. Of course he wouldn’t take this seriously. It was him.   
  
“It’d be too much of a bother,” she said with a wave of her hand, tearing her eyes away from him with a huff.   
  
“Oh? I’m sure it’d be very quick and I’d be back to ‘normal’ in no time.”   
  
“What’s the point? If you’re happy this way, then it can’t be helped,” Dita bemoaned.   
  
Zima laughed. “Is Dita teasing me?”  
  
Her cheeks turned pink again, and she cursed her creator for making such a thing possible in persocoms. “No. That’s your department, I’d dare say.”   
  
“Oh my, but it’d be rather cute if you were,” Zima protested, arching upwards so his face was facing hers. His hand stayed in her hair, preventing her from turning away from him. “So? What do you think? Should I be fixed?”   
  
“I’ve grown used to your foolish behavior,” Dita said after a pregnant pause, and forced herself to roll her eyes. “Besides, you allowing me to be so close is helpful for securing your system.”   
  
Zima laughed again, but it was substantially softer than before. He looked up at her, smiling. “Of course, love, of course.”   
  
“Hmph,” she said decisively, leaning down so she could push him back onto the concrete roof of the building they currently sat on. Once there, she placed her hands on either side of his shoulders. “But don’t get the wrong idea. I certainly don’t like this personality of yours.”  
  
“Of course, love, of course,” Zima repeated, but his tone suggested another point of view entirely.  
  
Honestly, there was no living with him.  
  
Dita sighed, exasperated, as his fingers found her hair again.


End file.
